Sharing Information: Quatrain by John Medler

Quatrain by John Medler

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BLOODLINE

Cate was afraid. This was her first birth and her mother Isabelle was gone. The pain in her swollen stomach was like a blacksmith‘s molten poker. Her fever had not broken in the last two days. The midwife had told her that this kind of pain was normal, but she didn‘t think so. She knew that girls her age often died in childbirth, but she wasn‘t worried about herself. Her Savior would take care of her if anything happened. Cate was worried about the baby. If the baby should die before being baptized…. No, she could not think of such things. She stretched out on the small wooden cot, trying to get comfortable. Each position was worse than the last. Her white cotton robe was saturated. The midwife tried to calm her by rubbing her wrinkled hands on her neck and pressing wet strips of cloth onto her forehead. Cate wished that her sister….

Her thought was interrupted by an agonizing convulsion of pain. Her scream caused villagers in the fields to turn their heads. Blood started pouring out between her legs. She grabbed the midwife‘s blue shirt in desperation. ―If it is a boy, I want his name to be Jacquemin, after my brother….‖ Cate didn‘t get time to express her name preference if the child was a girl. Before she blacked out, all Cate could see was the grimaced look of concern on the face of the midwife.

Ann, the midwife, had seen cases like this before. The placenta had ripped from its moorings. She acted quickly, using a metal tool to pry the infant‘s head through the birth canal. Seconds counted. She expertly removed the umbilical cord from around the child‘s neck and the mucous from the child‘s mouth. The infant looked a little blue, but within a few seconds, the infant gasped and began wailing. Success. The infant was a girl! She had beautiful red hair, like Cate‘s sister. She placed the child and the umbilical cord in a pre-arranged bassinette. Her assistant Marie attended to the child while Ann attempted to save the mother, but there was not much she could do. Cate had lost a lot of blood. She kept placing water on the girl‘s face, but after a few minutes, she realized Cate was lost. Her soul was now with Jesus Christ. She sent for the local priest.

Jean Colin, Cate‘s new husband, was a young tax collector for the duchy of Bar. He was the son of the Mayor of the nearby town of Greux. He was not a horrible man, and he had his tender moments, but for the most part, he was someone who thought of himself first and everyone else last. He had not even wanted children, seeing them as a nuisance and an expense, but his beautiful wife Cate had insisted that God‘s plan was for them to have children. Colin had fallen for her as soon as he had seen her pale cheek, her long blonde tresses, and her beautiful blue eyes. Cate‘s father was a tax collector like him, and her dowry had been sufficient. She was by far the fairest young girl in Domremy. His hope was to move to Chinon or even Paris someday, where he might move up the ranks and improve his position.

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